“Oh but you were made, by a God who knows your name , He doesn’t make mistakes. For you, you are wanted, you, you are wanted” – Dara MacClean

Little Miss, out of the blue, started asking questions about her birth last night. It went something like this…

LM: Did you buy me from the store?

Me: No, I made you. I grew you inside me and kept you safe until you were born.

LM: God made me.

Me: Yes, He helped. But you were inside me, growing big and strong, until you were ready to come out.

LM: I didn’t like being in there (putting her hand on my tummy).

Me: That’s true. You wanted out early on, that’s why I was on bed rest for eight weeks and then you arrived two weeks early.

LM: Yeah, I remember.

At this point, Fussypants jumped into the conversation to tell his sister (erroneously) that I pooped her out my bum and that’s how she was born. Thankfully, she laughed and isn’t traumatized for life.

So this guy is posting videos of conversations with his two year old, as reenacted by himself and another grown man. They are very funny, especially the cookie convo in episode #3. I’ve had that conversation, or a version of it, on several occasions with both my kids.

So it got me thinking about conversations with my own children and I thought I’d share two gems that occurred just this morning, in the span of 3o minutes, with my three year old daughter.

Little Miss, at a young age, took a vested interest in her clothing, to the point where we started having arguments over what character she wanted to wear on her underwear when she was barely two. For the record, I do not give a hoot what she chooses, I just want her to choose…and therein lies the issue most mornings. The upside is that she has now started to thank me for washing her favorite undies.

Today’s clothing drama had to do with shoes. The conversation went something like this.

Me: Do you guys have your socks and shoes on? We need to leave.

Little Miss: No. I want to wear flip-flops.

Me: You can’t wear flip-flops. No open toed shoes at school because you play outside.

LM: (pouting): I want to wear flip-flops like you.

Me: I’m wearing sandals. And I don’t get to play outside.

LM: You don’t get to play outside? (Accompanied by the saddest face ever so now I’m feeling bad I have to go sit in an office).

Me: No, but you do, so let’s get shoes on.

LM: I want to wear Cinderella shoes. With socks.

Me: Fine (and we get her in shoes).

As I’m locking the door, she turns to me and says, “These hurt, I want my fast shoes (that’s what she calls her sneakers).

And I wonder why I’m never on time.

The second conversation gem took place in the car.

LM: I want Minnie Mouse.

Me: Where is Minnie Mouse?

LM: There.

Me: Honey, I’m driving the car, I can’t see her.

LM: She’s right there.

Me (straining to see where she is pointing in the rearview mirror): On the floor?

LM: There!

Me: Sweets, I’m driving on the freeway, I can’t reach her right now. You’ll have to wait.

LM: You are not driving the freeway, you are driving the car.

Me: Right, I’m driving the car on the freeway.

LM (a little quieter): You are driving the car, not the freeway.

She always has to have the last word.

By the way, the second conversation took place after she ate it in the parking lot when dropping her brother off. She was walking on the curb, slipped and scrapped her knee, then freaked out when it started to bleed. I tried to console her with kisses but she only wanted a Band-Aid, which, thankfully, I found in the glove compartment shoved between sunglasses and my car’s user manual.

Please, thank you, excuse me….all very easy words to say. It’s important to me that my children are polite. Polite children make for polite adults. There is nothing cute or endearing about a demanding child and a demanding adult is even worse.

Fussypants was polite from the womb. I had a relatively easy pregnancy, and aside from him being eight days early, a fairly easy delivery. He nursed right away, he crawled early, he walked early, he talked early and even before his vocabulary was developed, he’d sign the word for please.

Then, when he did speak, he said please and thank you before and after everything…including no, please when he didn’t want to do something. So sweet and so polite. Now, as an almost six year old, he sometimes forgets to say please but 95% of the time, he remembers.

His sister is an entirely different story. She’s been bossy since the womb. Eight weeks of bedrest because of contractions, then she arrived two weeks early. The girl wants what she wants and she wants it on her schedule.

She prefers to demand instead of ask politely. And if you don’t move quickly enough to her liking, she’s been known to push you in the direction of what she wants. She also makes this horrid EH sound, like a buzzer on a game show if she doesn’t like something. And the drama…she makes a show of what she will do if you don’t do as she wants. She took her diaper off yesterday, and demanded I peepee, CHANGE ME. My response, In a minute, I’m busy. And what do you say when you want something? She gave me the toddler stare, smiled a smile that meant she was up to no good and replied, Mama change me or I peepee on flooooorrr! Awesome. (And yes, we are working on potty training but that’s a post on its own).

So we’ve been patiently and consistently working with her to add please, thank you and excuse me to her vocabulary. 60% of the time she forgets, we remind her. 30% of the time she doubles up the good stuff…Thank you please and 10% of the time she asks so nicely, I could cry. Overall, she is a very sweet (albeit demanding) little girl and will figure out that she’ll get her way more often when she adds the please, thank you and excuse mes to her repertoire. And she’d better, because it’s important to me that my children are polite.